


I'll make it up to you somehow

by handyhunter



Category: X-Men (comicsverse)
Genre: M/M, sandwichverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-19
Updated: 2010-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-07 09:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handyhunter/pseuds/handyhunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sort of a sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/63770">Something in the Night</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll make it up to you somehow

Logan paused in the act of popping the cap off his beer. Pixie was excited about something, and her voice carried; even without his extra hearing abilities, he'd be able to hear her.

"Mr. Summers. . .shirtless. . sleeping on the couch. Shirtless! Did I mention that part?"

"17 times," said Laura, in an even tone.

"He's our _teacher_," said Hisako, admonishing and giggly all at once.

Logan wished on his beer that they'd keep right on walking down the hall. He waited until their footsteps receded before he looked in the refrigerator again to scrounge up an after dinner snack. The last thing he wanted was to have to make four of Logan's Infamous Canadian Sandwiches -- which, really, was whatever he could find that looked edible and would fit between two slices of bread, and sometimes even if it didn't. He'd outright told Hisako he was only making one extra sandwich for her, the other day, and then she'd gone and brought Megan and Laura with her. Someone was going to have to go grocery shopping soon.

He finished eating and wiped up the trail of crumbs. Contrary to certain people's opinions about him, he wasn't a slob. He grabbed his last beer, and then thoughtfully wrote BEER on the grocery list on the refrigerator door. By this time, most of the place sounded like it had gone to sleep for the night. He ventured out to the living room.

"Summers."

By Logan's calculations, this would be the third night Scott was spending on the couch in the recent weeks, which was none of his business, except that Scott decided to park himself in front of the only television with a VCR player. Not that Logan couldn't have hooked up the VCR to another screen, but he liked that couch too, and why Summers didn't sleep in one of the unoccupied rooms, he couldn't begin to guess.

"What are we watching anyway?" said Scott as he sat up and rearranged the cushions. Logan took that as invitation to sit down.

"Your lack of appreciation for hockey is a sad, sad thing, Cyclops." Although Logan had to admit his own devotion to the sport had waned a bit when his team lost in the playoffs; this was why he'd taped the games, rather than watch them live. That and the bad guys had the unfortunate habit of making a nuisance out of themselves at exactly the wrong times.

Scott merely shrugged and then tilted his head back. He was certainly...frustrated. Interesting. But, still, Logan reminded himself, none of his business. Didn't want to get blasted out of any more windows. It had hurt, healing factor or not. So he turned his eyes to the game.

***

"What?" said Logan, slightly unnerved. Scott was staring at him again. He resisted the urge to flatten his hair because surely his bed-head wasn't any worse than Scott's.

Scott pulled his toothbrush out of his mouth and spat into the sink. "Nothing."

Logan ducked out of the bathroom at that point. It wasn't until later that he realized Scott hadn't used the bathroom in the master bedroom, but the less private one in the hall.

***

"Uh, Summers? Cyclops!" Logan pulled the fearless leader out of harm's way before their holographic opponent knocked him out. "End session," he called out, and somewhere in the other room, Hank turned off the program. He had created something similar to the Danger Room, but hopefully without the sentience.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Summers?" Without waiting for a reply, Logan punched the other man in the stomach, hard enough to get his attention without breaking anything vital.

"Oof," said Scott, doubling over. When he straightened, there was a glint in his eye, and Logan was on the ground, rolling out of the way, as Scott's hand flew to his visor.

Blast.

Logan blinked at the red dots in front of his eyes. He wasn't hit, but Scott was stepping closer to him.

"What's wrong with me?" Scott repeated. Blast. Blast. Blast.

Okay, that last one stung a little. Logan kicked out, got Scott's shin and he stumbled a little. Scott threw a punch at Logan's face that he couldn't block fast enough and it clipped his jaw. He may have growled at that.

The door swung open and Hank stuck his head in. "How'd it work?" he asked brightly. "Did the holo--" Logan slammed into the wall next to him. Scott smiled grimly, advancing. "I'll come back later, shall I?" said Hank, retreating.

"You," said Scott, punctuating each word with a blast. "Are...What's...Wrong...With...Me." He wasn't hitting Logan very hard, just enough to keep him down. And Logan curled over himself and waited. Waited until Scott was close enough... Logan tackled him, and they fell in a sideways tangle of limbs. There was pushing, punching, shoving, maybe even a little hair pulling. Logan was caught up in the adrenaline rush, and he was close enough that he couldn't mistake what Scott smelled like -- excitement and arousal. Well, fighting and fucking, it was close enough, wasn't it?

Evidently Scott agreed because he stopped trying to break Logan's ribs and seemed to be looking for a way into his pants instead.

"Summers? Scott?" Logan said carefully, "have you lost your mind, uh, again?" He wiggled a little, trying not very hard to get away. Scott somehow managed to use that little bit of room to flip them over so he was on top.

Well, then.

"Logan."

"Yeah."

"Shut up. And take your clothes off."

Scott didn't give him a chance to do anything, though, before he kissed him so thoroughly Logan thought, in the small part of his brain that was still working, if Scott kissed Jean like this, while his hands did _that, oh holy christ_, he could understand the appeal of being married to a boy scout. Logan wasted no time peeling off his costume when Scott let him up for air.

***

"Sorry, Slim," said Logan, feeling rather boneless, sprawled out as he was on the floor. "I'll make it up to you." He closed his eyes. "Um, later. I can't move right now."

Scott, feeling rather satisfied himself, only said, "What good is a healing factor if it doesn't work in situations like these?" He rolled himself up and poked Logan with a toe. "We can't stay in here forever. Hank is probably going through burst through the door any second now to make sure we haven't killed each other."

"Give him my regards." Logan kept his eyes closed while Scott gathered up their discarded clothing. He heard the other man's footsteps walking in a direction away from him.

"You know," said Scott, "the door to the showers lock."

Logan opened an eye. And then he opened both eyes, the better with which to watch Summer's retreating form. And then he got up and followed, because it's what he did, sometimes, when he felt like it. Tomorrow they might not be able to stand the sight of one another, but right now, they were alright and Logan could live with that.


End file.
